Jilly Cooper - Polo

‘Quite right,’ said Daisy indignantly. ‘Oh ye of little faith.’ She also noticed that he hardly stammered at all now when he talked to her. The moon was rising huge and pink, bats and swallows dived, owls hooted, the sky had darkened to lilac in the west. What Ricky hadn’t told Daisy about was the brief bitter note Chessie had sent him: ‘I thought you wanted me back. If you insist on playing with schoolboys, I was obviously wrong.’

Realizing Daisy was shivering, he had just taken his coat off and put it round her shoulders when Eddie appeared in the doorway, wiping imaginary sweat from his forehead. ‘We’ve tidied the whole house, Mum. We’ve even made Ethel’s basket.’

‘Good boy,’ said Ricky.

‘Can I have a beer?’

‘Later,’ said Ricky. ‘If you come into Rutminster with me, we’ll get an Indian.’

It was the eve of the team’s departure. Having finally got Eddie off to school and finished Sharon’s portrait, Daisy sent Perdita up to London with money to buy some clothes for America.

Perdita – whose self-confidence seemed to have been finally smashed by Rupert – was in turmoil because she might have to play and would certainly be seeing Red again. Having made heroic attempts to cheer Perdita up, Daisy was overwhelmed with despair. Tomorrow Ricky was off to America, and inevitably out of her life. I must not hate Chessie, she told herself sternly, I am very lucky my children and I are not dying of hunger in Ethiopia, my entire family haven’t been wiped out in an earthquake or a volcano and this is the first time I’ve had access to my own bathroom in nine weeks. God, I look awful.

The only answer, in case Ricky dropped in that evening, was to wash her hair and have a bath. She had just emerged pink and Je Reviens-scented, with legs and armpits shaved and was combing out her wet hair when she heard Ethel barking and a hammering on the front door. Wrapping herself in a big dark-green towel, she ran downstairs and her heart failed. For there, beachboy-blond and absolutely black-brown, stood Drew.

‘Darling Daisy!’ He put the inevitable bottle of Moët on the kitchen table. ‘You’ve no idea how I’ve missed you.’

Daisy just stared at him. She’d dreamt of this moment for so long, and she’d planned to be distant and icily disapproving because he’d forced Ricky’s hand over the Westchester, but it was hard to be cool when you were hot and lobster-pink from the bath. And Drew looked so handsome and was in such high spirits. Inevitably the conversation turned in moments to polo.

‘Boy, am I glad to be out of the Westchester,’ he said, tearing the gold paper off the cork. ‘It is going to be a ghastly embarrassment to the English. They’re having great trouble selling tickets. Americans love American victories, but they like a decent tussle first.’

‘Ricky’s playing,’ said Daisy defensively.

‘Maybe, but it’ll be like Canute trying to stop the tide and not even bothering to put on gumboots. The twins are wildly erratic and hopeless in defence, which is all they’ll have to do. Mike’s a dolt.’ He paused. ‘D’you think Ricky’ll ever speak to me again?’

As he went automatically to the right cupboard to get down two glasses, Daisy noticed he had US Open printed on the back of his bomber jacket.

‘If he wins, he might,’ said Daisy reprovingly. ‘He’s had so much flak recently.’

‘Just because he’s got this idée fixe about getting Chessie back. Talk about ex-appeal.’

Daisy didn’t laugh. ‘How’s Sukey?’

‘Really well. I’ve got a new American patron for Palm Beach next year, which means mega-bucks.’

‘Is he nice?’

‘Better than Victor. Christ, I’m relieved to be shot of him.’

At the pop of the champagne cork, Ethel started barking and all the puppies woke up and started wandering round the kitchen.

‘Are any of the children at home?’ asked Drew casually, as he filled the glasses. Then, glancing through into the sitting room, gave a start as he caught sight of Sharon’s finished portrait still on Daisy’s easel.

‘Christ – that’s good. I thought it was the old bat for a second. You really are getting better and better.’

Reluctant to be won over, Daisy followed Drew into the sitting room for a better look and had great difficulty stopping him drawing a moustache on Sharon.

‘Well, at least let me draw a tiara on her bush. She’s going hammer and hot tongs for David Waterlane at the moment.’

‘He kept ringing for her,’ said Daisy. ‘At first I thought it was you using a false name.’

She shivered and shut the window. ‘I must go and get dressed.’

‘Why bother?’ Drew refilled her glass. ‘I’d forgotten how beautiful you are.’

‘Evidently,’ said Daisy, unable to keep the acid out of her voice. ‘Was Sharon amazing in bed?’

Drew shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t know. You know my heart belongs to you.’

‘My true love hath my heart, and I have about one twentieth of his,’ said Daisy, and buoyed up by champagne, told him about Sukey’s visit.

‘That’s a pack of lies,’ said Drew, gazing into her eyes with that unshiftingly honest look that convinced Daisy he wasn’t telling the truth. ‘I promise you. I can only assume she got wind of us and decided to spin a story like that to put the boot in.’

‘Sukey isn’t that subtle or conniving,’ said Daisy. ‘She was absolutely devastated, and so touchingly grateful that I’d listened to her, I felt an absolute bitch.’

‘Honestly, don’t,’ begged Drew, starting to laugh. ‘And as for that ludicrous fantasy about Bibi Alderton. That consisted of one lunch at the Four Seasons in New York. Christ, the food’s good! Bibi started crying about Angel. I put my arm round her to comfort her and unfortunately we were seen by Sukey’s most indiscreet chum, who leapt for the telephone. The only woman I’ve ever adored since I was married, probably ever, is you.’

‘What about all those valentines?’

‘I can’t help it if people send me valentines. I bet Red Alderton gets them by the sack. Catch!’ He threw the half-full bottle at her. Stretching out both hands, Daisy fumblingly caught it, spilling champagne all over her breasts. The dark green towel slid to the floor.

‘God, you’re pretty.’ Drew moved forward. ‘You’re the one who should be on Page Three.’

Daisy didn’t believe a word Drew had said about Bibi, but she was so suicidal over Ricky, and Drew looked so handsome, and it felt so nice having the champagne licked off her breasts and it was such a relief for a change being caught bathed and shaven and with clean hair that they ended up in bed.

Having supervised the packing of everything for the horses, having started packing for himself, trying to avoid Little Chef’s reproachful gaze, and suddenly feeling like a small boy about to go back to prep school, Ricky decided to drop in on Daisy. Ethel didn’t even bark because she knew him so well.

Finding Drew’s car outside and a three-quarters empty bottle of Moët on the kitchen table and two of Ethel’s puppies joyfully demolishing one of Drew’s shoes, Ricky drove off in a fury.

An hour later Drew rolled up asking if he could borrow a pair of shoes.

‘Talk about being caught on the hop,’ he said, hopping after Ricky into the kitchen.

Ricky slammed the kitchen door and shut the window so that the grooms, who had been amazed by the foulness of his temper for the last hour, couldn’t listen in.

‘How long have you been screwing Daisy?’

‘I don’t see what the hell it’s got to do with you,’ said Drew calmly.

‘I am her landlord.’

‘She’s at least six years older than you. She can do what she likes, Dick.’